An Impromptu Introduction
by sephie666
Summary: Del is a college student, 1 year away from getting her Liberal Art's Degree, what happens when she crashes into a certain maniac at the conveniences store? Nny/OC Reviews are welcome, flamers shall die a fiery death!
1. Open Cuts

"FUCK!"

The other girl in the dorm peeked her head out of the bathroom, only to see her roommate cursing as she held her thumb. Around her were scattered art supplies, though there were two objects that struck her attention. A pocketknife and a can of unopened oil paint, who's top looked like it had been hacked at.

"Tried to open the can with a knife? That was a fail from the beginning." The other girl laughed. The girl on the floor looked up from her thumb to glare at her.

"Shut up Rhonda, this fucking hurts! And I'm gonna have a hard time painting with a brush now!", she growled at her roommate, and at herself for being so stupid.

"Whatever Del. I'm going out to hang with some people, you coming?", Rhonda asked, walking across the room and grabbing her jacket. Del glanced at Rhonda with an expression of distaste. Her roommate was somewhat the exact opposite of her. She preferred staying inside and being a hermit, while Rhonda went out and mingled with people. Mingling consisted of meeting guys, smoking unknown substances, and dancing at shady clubs. Things that she didn't enjoy in particular.

Not that they didn't get along. They had both shared a dorm room for two years and they had only had one fight throughout. But their social habits were polar opposites.

"Um. . . nah, I think I'll stay in tonight, I kinda need to get this thing done." She waved a hand at the blank canvas in front of her. Rhonda shrugged, used to Del's antisocial life, and returned to the bathroom.

Del got up and searched around for a band aid, which turned out to be a fruitless search because she found none. And her thumb was flowing like a friggin' river, the cut looked like it went to the bone.

"Dammit! Rhonda are there any band aids in the bathroom?", she shouted. Rhonda replied, "Nope, I guess you're gonna die from blood loss."

Del growled again, she was going to have to go out after all and get to a 24/7, hopefully they kept band aids in stock. Her painting was going to wait until she came back, there was no way she could paint with an open cut on her hand.

"Could you drop me off at a 24/7 on your way to wherever in shit's name you're going?", she requested loudly in irritation.

"Sure, there's one around the club we're going to, you might have to walk a couple miles to get back here though. . .", came the reply. Aggravation rolled off of Del in waves. Going out and having to walk back to her dorm just because of a cut was nonsense, but she gritted her teeth.

"Fine, just drop me off and I'll walk." She stood up and brushed herself off with one hand. She was still in sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, having stayed in bed since the morning. She sighed, if she was going out into the world she needed to look somewhat presentable.

Digging around she found a pair of black skinny jeans and a hoodie with the phrase, 'Life Sucks, So Smile!" on it. She nearly always wore black, but not because she was goth. The gothic community could fuck itself if they thought she was a part of it. No, she wore black because it suited her looks and because she preferred it. She wasn't hopelessly depressed or a worshiper of death, she just liked the color.

Rhonda was already ready, wearing red tights under a purple skirt and a black tank top with her lime green jacket over it. Her feet were decorated with silver Dike's high-tops.

Del shook her head in disgust. Rhonda had the body to pull off any clothing she wanted to: tall stature, perfectly shaped legs, a nice ass, and she was well endowed in the chest area. Along with her olive skin, chestnut colored eyes, and purple hair, which came to shoulders, she looked perfect. She also had a small nose with a heart-shaped face. It was sickening how cute she must look to the other sex.

Del, on the other hand, looked odd.

She was skinny, having nothing in the ass or chest region. She had relatively nice skin, no blemishes, but the color of it was alabaster white, making her look like she was a freakin' ghost. In the cranial department she sported short red hair with the bangs coming to her chin and the back spiking out in different directions. Her hazel-green eyes were nice she supposed, they were the only feature she actually liked. Other than that, she had prominent cheekbones and a long nose which was upturned at the end.

She was unusual looking while Rhonda looked like a college goddess. Rhonda tapped her foot anxiously while Del pulled on a pair of leather boots.

"Alright, just so you know, I have few people from here riding with us, 'kay?", Rhonda asked as they made their way out to her car. Del shrugged, she could care less, she just wanted to get to the store and back as fast as possible. They both attended a community college. Rhonda was there for a degree in communications so she could go into journalism, while Del was there for a degree in liberal arts, wanting to go on in life as a graphic artist. Both were on their third year, and had tuned themselves to college life.

So it really wasn't a surprise to find that Rhonda's car had been 'broken' into and the culprits were still in the car. They were part of Rhonda's crew, a boy and girl, who were probably dating. Del didn't know, she just recognized them from walking around campus and seeing Rhonda talking to them.

"Hey guys, this is my roommate Del, she's coming along for the ride so she can get something from the 24/7", Rhonda told them. They nodded and greeted Del. Apparently their names were Dan and Jeanna, not that Del found such knowledge interesting, she probably wouldn't see them again after tonight. Still she introduced herself nonetheless.

Her real name was Delilah, but after listening to the Dark Washed T's song, she nearly went on a massacre every time someone sang it to her. So now she was Del, shortened and improved. And she shook their hands politely.

She jumped in the back of the gray convertible. How Rhonda had the money to buy the expensive car was beyond her.

They drove past the neat and tidy college campus and into the dirty city that surround it. The streets looked like they had been paved 100 years ago, the cracks and pot-holes looking like the plain of a teenager's face with really bad acne. Plus the trash that spill out from the alleys between the shady shops lining the streets made the air smell like a sewage tank. Despite the stench the night air was pleasantly warm, due to the season being summer, and it kissed Del's skin with a sweet caress.

Shooting past the stores, the neon sign of the club, 'Snuggiliez', quickly approached them. And right across the street was a 24/7. '_Thank marshmallows.'_, thought Del. She had brought a bunch of napkins with her, which were wrapped around her thumb and quickly becoming soaked.

They parked on the club's side and Rhonda and her friends said their farewells and went into the bowels of the club. The vicinity of said club looked anything but 'snugly'. A giant teddy bear, now that was snugly This place looked like it was infested with cockroaches, people with drugged out eyes were swarming around like the building was their nest.

Del bit back a shout for Rhonda to come back out She was a grown woman and could take care of herself, though Del shot a doubtful look to the club. If her friend wasn't back in the morning, Del was going to send a few cop cars to the place.

Back to her problem, literally at hand, she wrapped the napkins tightly around her small appendage and walked across the street to the convenience store. It was just as dirty as the rest on the street, but at least it should have band aids. Walking through the doors, she went up to the person at the counter and asked for the aisle that had band aids.

It was a teenager manning the station, and he looked at her with bored eyes. "Um. . . I believe they are in aisle three, but don't cutters like you want to bleed?", he chuckled at his own stupid joke. Del glared at him, but bit back a retort. She was used to jokes aimed at her, and was skilled at keeping her temper in check. Ignoring his comment, she made her way to third aisle and looked around.

On the bottom shelf was her sought item. Success! She quickly grabbed a box of Death Kitty band aids and started running to the counter to pay for them. Then she could bandage her wound, walk home, and enjoy the rest of the night by painting.

However before she could make it to the counter she crashed into someone with a red Brain Freezy, sending both him and her to the ground with the icy drink splashing onto both of them.

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

**Can you guess who she crashes into, it's not really a SAT question. This is my first time writing a JTHM fanfiction, so please correct me if I make any mistakes. I beg for reviews so I can make the story better, and encouragement makes me smile. A creepy smile, but a smile nonetheless!**


	2. Spilled Drinks

My elbow and hip were throbbing from the impact on the linoleum floor, and my clothes were quickly getting soaked by the slushie drink. I looked over at the guy I crashed into and found that he was in the same position as I was, having fallen painfully to the tiled floor.

"Fuck! My Brainfreezy! What the hell's wrong with you?", he growled at me, picking himself off the floor. "Are your eyes merely pieces of flesh taking residence in your skull, watch where you're going!"

He was a thin guy, with long limbs and needle like fingers. I noticed such because one hand was curled up in a fist that he was shaking at me. He was dressed in black, a long trench coat covering a t-shirt that had an odd symbol, 'Z?'. His pants were black, but were blocked by a pair of boots that came up to his knee, the buckles and tips were steel. Though the tips were separated into two 'toes', giving them an weird look. His hair was cut in an odd fashion, shaved on the sides and somewhat long on the top. He had a nice sense of style, but it was his facial expression that threw me off.

Two big eyes with onyx irises matching the pupils were giving me a murderous look and with the black eye make-up lining them and sleep deprived bags underneath them, they looked even more evil. What looked like it would be tan skin, if it had enough sun exposure, was yellow with a pale tinge, making him look sickly. A small nose and mouth with thin lips were scrunched up in his look of contempt.

He had an aura that clearly said, "Don't fuck with me". But my anger was flaring.

I was beginning to lose feeling in my thumb, my clothes were wet and quickly making me cold, and I had someone shouting at me in a sarcastic tone. My buttons were being pressed. I stood up and brushed the remains of the beverage off me, the cup lay untouched on the floor, half of the slushie still in it.

"Look, I am not blind, I can see! I'm sorry but I was in a hurry, I have a cut on my thumb that I needed to bandage, hence my want to buy these.", I retorted, waved the box of band aids at him with a glare of my own. "So I apologize, and as for the Brainfreezy, I'll be glad to buy you another."

He studied me a little, glancing at my thumb with a raised eyebrow. "Hmm, you **do** seem to be bleeding. . . I suppose I can forgive an accident for this one time and accept your offer." He seemed to float off into his thoughts after that. What he was thinking? I had no clue.

As much as I would have loved for him to take his time with his decision, my patience was wearing thin.

"Either way, you can go and get another if you want one, or I'm paying and leaving now.", I said flatly. His glare returned, but he nodded and went back to the machine, quickly filled another cup, and walked past me to the counter, leaving the remaining cup and it's spilled contents on the ground. I sighed and picked up the plastic cup and put it in the trash as I joined him at the counter. He raised an eyebrow at the act of kindness to the cashier, who would probably have to mop up the rest of the mess.

"How did you cut yourself", he asked curiously, as said cashier rang us up._ Or rather rung me up_, I thought wryly as I pulled out my money.

I answered with another glare, "I was trying to open a can of paint with a knife, it didn't go so well if you can't notice."

"Oh, so you are an artist?", he inquired. I nodded, grabbing my box and handed him his drink.

I turned to him, "I suppose this is where we part, nice meeting you. . . um Mr.?" As much as I just wanted to walk away, being polite tended to be a habit of mine.

"Johnny, Johnny C. But you can called me Nny", he bowed and held out a hand. "And you are?"

"Delilah, but call me Del, not that we're going to run into each other again.", I let my irritation slide and smiled lightly, shaking his hand. He didn't return the smile, but instead said, "You really shouldn't assume things you know." And then he promptly took a sip of his drink and let out a breath.

"Geez, this stuff is like a freakin' drug, anyway thanks.", he said to me. I looked at him strangely before he brushed past me and walked out the sliding doors.

"That dudes one wacky person man.", the cashier muttered as he got his mop and started wiping the cherry Brainfreezy off the floor. I shook my head and started walking home. I glanced once at the club across the street and thought I saw a tall, gangly shadow sneak into the alley on the side of the building. But I brushed it to the back of my mind, I must have been imagining right?

**Did I get Johnny in character? Please tell me I did! Anyway, review please, and I shall write as fast as I can! :)**


	3. Dark Paintings

Returning to my dorm, after a five fucking mile walk, I slammed the door shut and plopped down on my bed. Opening up the box of band aids, I chose a black cat with a cute skull bow as my bandage. I wrapped the sucker around my thumb and got to work.

My art project was due tomorrow and I had procrastinated until the very end. We were to do an oil painting depicting an original city scene. I had never been good at painting, hence my long wait at approaching the project.

However, after my outing, which included meeting that odd individual, Nny, and seeing that strange shadow in the alleyway, I found myself with inspiration. I began drawing diagonal lines that would make up the buildings surrounding the alley and the lamp post that would be the source of light in the painting. Soon, I had an acceptable outline to start painting with, after I had added a tall man's shadow stretching out over one of the walls of the alley.

The composition overall would be dark and almost scary, but by adding different warm and cold colors, I could give the piece a bit of an abstract look.

I was deep into my painting when the door of the dorm crashed open.

Rhonda was standing there in the doorway, panting like a 40 year old chain-smoker. Her face was pale and had black streaks trailing down her cheeks from crying and her eye-makeup running down.

"D-Del, you gotta call the police for m-me." She looked like she was on the verge of tears again and I sprang up and pulled her over to her bed to sit down. It was when I touched her that I realized that her lime green jacket was covered in a dark liquid on the back. Shakily I brought my hand to my face, only to see that it was blood.

"Holy shit Rhonda, you're covered in blood!" I grabbed a hold of her shoulders and looked her over. She didn't appear to be hurt or anything, the blood must have been someone else's.

She started shaking and rocking back and forth. "I-I know, it's not mine. Oh god Del, you won't believe what happened. . ."

I tried to calm her down. "Alright, alright. We'll call the police and we'll figure this out. You gotta tell me what happened though Rhon."

She shook her head. "I-I don't know. I was hanging out with Dan and Jeanna, and then I met this g-guy. We started drinking a little when he asked me if I wanted to get out of there. It was starting to get a little crowded so I said yes. W-we were leaving and getting into his car, which was parked in the alleyway next to the club, when he yelled at one of the g-guys walking down the street." She paused a moment and took a deep breath. I rubbed her arm a little to get her to continue.

She swallowed loudly and started speaking again, a little more confidence in her voice. "We were both tipsy and I guess he just felt like roughing someone up. And the dude walking down the street just happened to be there. Brett, that was his name, started calling him names, got out of the car and tried to pick a fight with the guy when all of a sudden the dude snapped. He was a skinny, tall, guy but he moved like freakin' lightning. And before I knew it." She paused again and bit her lip. "Brett was dead with a knife sticking out of his chest."

She started crying again and I pulled her into a hug. Usually I'm not a very touchy, hugging type of person, but this was under different circumstances. Rhonda was freaking out, trembling like a leaf, and talking hysterically.

"I didn't do anything Del. I just stood there, and the guy was laughing like a maniac. When he started walking over to the car, I just put the keys in the ignition and got the fuck out of there." She continued babbling about blood and cruel, dark eyes into my shoulder and I tried to soothe her.

"Okay, first thing you have to do is call the police. They'll be able to catch the guy. It's going to be alright Rhonda." I shushed her crying. Despite my words, I doubted it would be alright. The guy, Brett, sounded like he was dead now, and there was no way to bring back the dead. At least Rhonda was alive though.

That night, we called the police and they found nothing in the alley but a pool of blood. No body, no signs of a struggle, just a pool of human blood. I asked them if they had found any DNA evidence of another man besides Brett after the investigation. They hadn't thought to look for any. Fuckin' dipshits, the lot of them.

I finished my painting that night. After completing the art piece, a strange sense of foreboding came over me as I stared at it. A tall guy's shadow in the alleyway, Rhonda's beau for the night turning up dead, supposedly killed by a man with the same description. The link was literally slapping me in the face. Call me paranoid, but something was up and I had a feeling it had to do with a certain Johnny C.


	4. Conversations

_"I'm suicidal. Yes, I must being seeking out death to come here. Any idiot would walk out and be on their merry way, happy to be alive. But no, I'm too fucking curious for my own good."_ I was thinking to myself as I walked into the 24/7 for the third time in a week. The same dude from that night was manning the cash register again. He must think I'm some weird stalker.

It had been two weeks since Rhonda's horrific night. She wasn't showing sight of Post Traumatic Stress, but she had definitely changed. Instead of going out at night to party, she opted to stay in these days. Drugs, booze, and boys had transformed into studying, watch TV, or trying to goad me into joining her to watch movies. Truthfully, she was driving me bat-shit crazy. I was used to having the dorm to myself, not actually sharing it with another human being. She was ruining the supreme order of things!

In complete contrast to her change of life, I had started going out more to get away from her. Though my trips usually consisted of walking to the 24/7. Pitiful, but at least I was getting out of my dorm room.

I had decided to try and find Johnny again. Seeing as we had meet in this dingy supermarket, I could only logically conclude that he'd come in again, probably for one of his precious slushies.

One might wonder why I was seeking out the person I suspected of murder. That one person would probably think I'm insane. And they might be right.

But for some strange reason, I had the urge to see him again and possibly talk to him. Perhaps ask him what he did after our impromptu meeting. Either way, here I was again, strolling up and down the aisles and finding only me, myself, and I in them.

I sighed in disappointment and turned to walk back out of the store when the bell on the doors rang. And in he walked.

He was dressed the same as that night, except perhaps a different shirt. This one had a strange stick figure on it with a cowlick hanging off it's round head.

He didn't take notice of me and made his way to the back where the slushie machine was. Now I was faced with the dilemma of how to approach him. I couldn't just walk up and ask, 'By chance, did you murder someone in the alley across the street from us?'

No, that wouldn't work, nor was it socially acceptable.

Going over different scenarios in my head, I slowly walked up behind him. He seemed busy deciding what flavor he wanted and I surprised him by stating, "Hey Nny."

Jumping slightly, and with one hand dunking into his pocket, he twirled around to face me.

"WHO THE FUCK- oh, it's you, the rude girl from before." He peered down at me from his tall stature with glaring eyes. I raised an eyebrow at the greeting, but smiled dryly. "Yep it's me."

Confusion and surprise splayed over his face and he didn't respond as he turned back to the machine. It seems this conversation was going down hill quickly.

"So. . . how are you?", I asked hesitantly. His demeanor was the same intimidating one as before, but he seemed very into the decision of picking a Brainfreezy.

He shrugged as he finally chose a flavor and pulled the handle to pour some into a plastic cup. I took notice of his hands, the fingers seemed to curl like claws over the handle, looking very cruel and gnarled. "I've been busy, the scummy people of this earth continuously irritate me."

I nodded, "People tend to be idiotic, I understand how that can be aggravating."

He smirked at me with an interested glint in his eyes. "Oh, so you know of humanity's filth and stupidity?"

I chuckled in false humor. "You could say I've been a victim to it once or twice."

His face darkened and his voice rang with rage as he spoke. "The population of this planet deserves to be boiled in vats of sulfuric acid until there is nothing left. You shouldn't let the vermin walk over you.", he advised sagely.

Despite the venom pointed at fellow humans, I grinned a little at his words. "I'll try to work on it.", I replied.

He nodded, "Well Ms. Lady person, I must be going. I enjoyed having a decent conversation with you." He surprised me by giving me a wry grin. It looked odd with his huge eyes and sallow skin, but it a nice smile.

Then I remember why I had even tried to talk to him.

"Wait! Listen, my room mate was attacked the night I crashed into you. I was wondering if you had seen anything odd. . ." I trailed off, looking at him for an answer. His eyes were starting to sharpen when I added, "I saw the shadow of a guy in the alley where the attack happened."

That was like setting off a stick of dynamite. He suddenly started screaming and swinging his beverage around.

"I KNEW IT! I KNEW YOU WERE FOLLOWING ME! Dammit, I should have listened to Mr. Eff and killed you!", he bellowed, pulling out two large and rather long knives. His eyes were wider, if that was even possible, and his body was tense, as if preparing to leap at me.

I began backing up before crashing into a display of 'Crockadade'. Falling over myself, I tried to get away from the raging maniac. I managed to get on my feet and started running while he was still ranting nonsense.

"WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?" I heard the sound of rapid footsteps behind me. Just as I got to the handle of the door, there was a CRACK! I didn't register the pain in my head until I was already on the floor with my vision fading. Johnny's manic filled face appeared grinning just as I passed out.

**Cliche? Not cliche? Stupid, ingenious? Tell me you FOOLS!**


End file.
